Dee's body writhed under its loose covering. "I can't explain."
"Has it got something to do with—with the other man?"
"What other man?"
It was not like direct Dee to fence, Pat reflected. She persisted: "The one you told me about."
"I never told you about any man."
"Oh, well! You talked about that thrill stuff——"
"Don't!" gasped Dee.
"I'm sorry," said Pat in swift contrition. "Is it as bad as that? Then I suppose it is the angel-face on skates."
The hard lines melted out of Dee's face. "Yes," she whispered. She seemed to find relief in the admission.